


Apologize

by seb_the_owl



Category: Starfighter (Comic)
Genre: Dirty Talk, M/M, dick explosions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-25
Updated: 2013-03-25
Packaged: 2017-12-06 10:08:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/734466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seb_the_owl/pseuds/seb_the_owl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After reuniting with his old lover, Bering can't seem to keep him off his mind. And it seems like Cook can't either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Apologize

**Author's Note:**

> Bazin -> named by a-social-construct -> Random Background Guy from Kurenai-Tenka  
> Galileo -> Chollarcho
> 
> You don't need to have read these stories listed below, but I pulled inspiration and some references from them. This is also kind of a sequel to 'Regrets', but if you liked the way it ended and didn't want any more, you can think of this as a different storyline. 
> 
> [Regrets](http://archiveofourown.org/works/668206) \- by me  
> [De Nova Stella](http://archiveofourown.org/works/700198/chapters/1290030) \- by a-social-construct  
> [Sore Loser](http://archiveofourown.org/works/710484) \- by me  
> [They are totally doing it](http://archiveofourown.org/works/644678) \- by me

Bering padded into the communal showers in the officer’s gym, hot and dripping with sweat after an intense work out. He wasn’t as young as he used to be, barely keeping up with Encke, but he managed to hold his own. Afterwards, the lieutenant decided to head back to his quarters, no doubt to burn off some of those endorphins with his young, pretty navigator, leaving Bering alone.

When the warm spray of water hit him, Bering thought about going and finding his own young, pretty navigator to end his evening with, maybe Metis again, or that Bazin kid. He was cute in his own way – always ducking behind things when certain fighters walked by. The one thing that stopped him were thoughts of Tycho – now Commander Cook. These thoughts had been troubling him as of late. He’d been able to keep the navigator-commander out of his mind, most days, but since the time in the office, when Cook took control and bent him over his desk, fucking him so completely, Bering couldn’t keep his mind drifting to him.

As if Mother had something against him, – and she probably did, the fickle bitch - Cook walked into the showers just then, wearing only a small, white towel wrapped around his waist. He had probably just come from jogging around the ship. As soon as their eyes met, Cook seemed to falter in his steps, a small movement, but Bering caught it. He quickly composed himself and moved to a shower head on the opposite wall.

Bering never thought of himself as a smart man with great restraint, so despite the warning bells going off in his head, he finished rinsing himself and made his way over to his former navigator. The towel had been removed and placed on a bench and Cook was leaning against the tiled wall with both hands, the spray of water hitting the back of his slim neck, running down his back, and down to a firm ass. It would be so easy to just grab his former lover and kiss him forcibly, but then again, Cook was always strong when he needed to be; stronger than Bering in more ways than one.

He decided to move slow, running his hands up the navigator-commander’s lightly muscled back and placing them on his shoulders. Cook must have known he was behind him because the only reaction Bering received was a slight tensing of muscles. Taking this a sign he wasn’t about to get kneed in the balls, he slid his hands down and wrapped his arms around his ex-lover’s waist, pressing his semi-hard cock against Cook’s wet ass and letting the hot water run between them.

“Getting bolder in your old age?” said Cook as he looked up and back, moving his head out of the stream, the residual water cascading down his hair. Bering rubbed his lips and beard against the back of Cook’s neck and hummed.

“We’ve been in ‘Teron space for a week and we aren’t dead yet.” His right hand started to drift south, brushing Cook’s belly button, the fine hairs that adorned his abdomen, then stiff curls, and finally down to the navigator’s surprisingly hard cock. The old fighter chucked to himself, thinking he should give Praxis some pointers in seduction. “I think that calls for a victory fu-“, Bering cut himself off as he stroked down Cook’s erection and felt small steel balls at the head.

The old fighter leaned back in surprise and looked at his former lover. “That wasn’t there the other day. I would have definitely felt that.”

Cook chuckled without humor as his hands slid from the wall and he turned around, removing Bering’s hands from his body. “What can I say, I was feeling nostalgic.”

With his white-blond hair, heavy with water and hanging down, Bering thought Cook was the perfect picture of strength and beauty. He longed to have Cook look at him like he once did, with hunger and lust instead of the dead, cold stare he was receiving now.

“Nostalgic, huh?” Bering forced a smile despite his growing unease. “How about we recreate some of those good times?”

He was not prepared for cold hands to grab his shoulders and for Cook to spin him around and bodily throw him against the tile wall. He was not prepared for the cold stare to turn icy. He was not prepared for his cock to get even harder.

Fingernails dug into the fighter’s shoulders and Bering tried not to wince and moan at the same time. Cook’s eyes narrowed and he murmured, “ _That_ is the past and it should stay there.” One final push against the wall and Cook leaned to get his towel and walked out of the showers, leaving Bering panting and hard.

The sound of clothes rustling and the swish of the door let Bering know that Cook was gone. Anger overtook him and he swung around with a loud curse and slammed his fist into the tile wall. The pain radiated out from his knuckles and down his hand causing him to curse again, only more softly.

Still hard, he took his cock in his good hand and slowly stroked himself to orgasm, trying not to think about the fact that this was all his fault.

\--------

Things were understandably tense after the confrontation in the shower. Cook wouldn’t see him in person and meetings were done over com or typed messages. Even passing each other in the hallways of the Sleipnir were filled with tension, as Bering only received a nod or single word as acknowledgment. He supposed he should be glad he even got that.

Bering went back to fucking random navigators. He told himself he was just getting back to the status quo, but really he needed something to take his mind off of Tycho, – no, Cook for fucks sake – the flings only acting as a temporary band aid for his thoughts.

Later that next week, the waters over took the dam, so to speak. Bering couldn’t sleep, with Central breathing down his neck and the blue team out on their scout mission, he figured he might as well be productive and headed to the gym. The ship was quiet, save for the hum of the engines and the whoosh of forced air being re-circulated. If he slowed his breathing and stood very still, he could imagine that he was the only man on board.

It was because of this he was surprised to hear the doors slide open as he completed his second set of sit-ups. He was even more surprised to see that it was the bane of his thoughts, there in the flesh. Flesh so tempting and divine, he had to bury his feelings along with his cock into other men. Cook walked up to him and stopped, looking down upon the fighter.

Light blue eyes narrowed and Cook sighed as he dropped down to his knees and straddled Bering. The fighter didn’t know how to react, so he didn’t, leaving his hands behind his head like he would be going back to sit ups any moment now.

“You are a pain in the ass, you know that?” said Cook.

Bering figured he was being rhetorical, but he answered anyway, “Have I given you the idea that I’m anything but?”

Cook placed his hands on either side of Bering’s head and leaned closer, his eyes searching Bering’s face for something. “No, I suppose not,” he murmured. Bering watched Cook’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed before speaking again, this time in a faint whisper, “Damn it.”

Thin, cold lips brushed his own, softly, before pressing more firmly down. Bering still didn’t move and just let Cook lead, afraid of scaring him off for good. A warm tongue peeked out and slowly moved over Bering’s bottom lip, causing the fighter to moan and part his lips, letting Cook slide his tongue inside. This time, Bering took his rough hands from behind his head and moved them up Cook’s arms, up to and just underneath the short sleeves of his plain white t-shirt.  

The kiss grew heated and Bering nipped at Cook’s lower lip, causing the man above him to moan deep in his throat. With out leaning up, Cook took his right hand and slid it under Bering’s t-shirt and lightly pinched at a nipple. The sensation shot straight to Bering’s groin and he hissed lightly. Cook then moved his hand to the other nipple and pinched twice as hard. The feeling was too much to stay still and Bering bucked up into Cook, trying to get some sort of friction on his quickly filling cock. 

Cook hummed, “Did you like that?”, then brought both hands to caress Bering’s chest under his shirt.

“Fuck, you know I like it.” Bering grumbled as he thrust his hips up once more. “Are you going to tease me until I die of blue balls, or are you going to fuck me?”

Without an answer, Cook grasped the sides of Bering’s shirt and yanked up, and Bering lifted his arms to allow it to be removed. Next, his shorts were being lowered down and socks and shoes removed as the shorts came off. Now totally naked, a thrill shot through his body as he looked up at a fully clothed Cook. It had been years since he felt this vulnerable around anyone and Bering couldn’t think of anyone else he would want to make him feel this way.

That didn’t stay the case for long, as Cook stood up and shucked off his drawstring pants, shirt and shoes. He was well on his way to becoming hard and the silver of his piercing glinted in the harsh lights of the gym. Bering ran his eyes over Cook’s body. He was still lean with toned muscle, familiar but not. With out thinking too hard about it, Bering crawled over on his hands and knees and lavished the head of Cook’s cock with little licks and kisses, paying special attention to the piercing.

Cook shuddered, gave a soft grunt and threaded the fingers of one hand through Bering’s salt and pepper hair. The navigator’s cock was straining now, red and begging for attention. Bering complied, taking the tip of it in his mouth and sucking gently, tongue tracing the small silver balls. Looking up into Cook’s bespectacled eyes, he slowly moved down the shaft, moaning when he couldn’t go any further.

“You are such a beautiful slut. You really love this cock, don’t you?” Cook said with a wicked grin.

Bering replied with a moan as he bobbed his head slowly back and forth, taking the time to run his tongue along the veins in his ex-navigator’s dick. He shuffled his knees so that they were under him and bearing most of his weight. His hands then moved behind his back and Bering clutched at his elbows, keeping his hands out of play.

“Lovely, now relax your throat.” Cook commanded and gripped Bering’s hair harder as he thrust his cock in and out of his mouth. Bering sat back on his heels and just took it, just took Cook’s hard, wet cock being forced down his throat and loved every damn minute of it.

Too soon, Cook yanked Bering’s head back and forced him to stop. “Enough. As much as I would love to come in your sweet mouth…” The old navigator took a step back to dig in the pocket of his discarded pants. He produced a small vial of lube. “Now lay back,” He ordered.

Once Bering was settled on his back again, Cook leaned back down and quickly engulfed Bering’s cock in his hot, wet mouth.

“Oh, fuck! Fuck!” Bering gritted. He was thankful that the gym was mostly soundproof. He didn’t need Galileo coming in here thinking something was wrong, and seeing his commander spread out like this. Cook held nothing back and sucked hard, his lips sensuously wrapped around Bering’s hard cock, lewd sounds coming from the action.

Bering lifted a hand and touched his old navigator’s head. Cook looked up then and pulled off with a wet slurp.

“Hands by your side,” he commanded and went back down, licking a line up Bering’s dick and lapping at the head. Bering complied and curled his hands into fists. Wet heat once again engulfed his cock and Cook brought the tip all the way to the back of his throat and swallowed, squeezing the head. He pulled back and repeated this several times and eliciting a loud moan from the fighter every time.

“Princess, you keep that up, I’m going to come,” Bering said breathily as he stared at the ceiling.

Cook leaned back and picked up the bottle of lube, “Well we wouldn’t want that, now would we,” Cook teased, his voice slightly rough. He twisted off the cap, rubbed a generous amount on his cock and stared to lay a line down his fingers. Bering grabbed his wrist and stopped his movements. Cook looked up, questioning.

“No, just…no prep. Ty, I need you to fuck me now.” Bering said. He wasn’t one to blush, but he was slightly embarrassed of his neediness.

Blue eyes narrowed to slits and Bering knew he’d fucked up. Called Cook by his old call sign, just fucking had to open up that wound again.

The bottle snapped closed and was lazily tossed to the side, where it landed with a soft thump. “Ok, Kep. Flip over.” Cook stated emotionlessly.

Bering slowly flipped over, relieved he wasn’t going to get punched in the face for that little slip up, and supported himself on his hands and knees. He could feel the heat of Cook pressing against him, the front of the navigator’s thighs touching the backs of his own. Looking up, Bering realized that Cook had positioned them right in front of one of the wall mirrors, and the fighter looked into the reflection to see Cook looking right back at him. Cook took his own cock in his hand and lined himself up to Bering’s entrance, the cold steel of the piercing sending shivers down his spine.

A slow, tortuous push, stretching, filling, burning, making Bering bite his lip and stifle a cry, and Cook was deep inside. The metal balls did their job and lightly rubbed Bering in a spot that made him gasp with each pass. The feeling of being so filled and taken, made Bering drop his head and clench his eyes shut. Cook leaned forward and gripped him under the chin, bringing his head back up to look in the mirror.

“I want you to watch me fucking you. I want to see your face when you come with my dick up your ass,” said Cook, his voice deep with lust, as he slowly began to pump his hips, his cock and piercing dragging ever so slowly, in and out of Bering. One hand was steadying the fighter’s hip, the other still holding his head up and forcing Bering to look at his one time lover. The thrill of watching himself and his unguarded face as Cook gradually picked up his pace made his cock wet, his come beading heavily at the tip.

“You love this don’t you?” purred Cook as he continued to look Bering in the eyes through the mirror. “You love your ass being pounded when anyone could come in here and find you like this. Anyone could see that the big, bad fighter-commander loves getting dick in his ass so bad.” Cook smirked as a shiver ran through Bering’s body, from the tips of his fingers to the ends of his toes.

Bering tried to look away, but was locked in place with Cook’s grip and intense stare. He knew Cook was right, but never ever wanted to admit to it. Of course he did the next best thing he could and that was to be indignant about it.

“I seem to remember you loving it up the ass just as much as I did.” Bering grunted as he pushed his hips back onto Cook’s hard cock, trying to grab at some semblance of control. He was rewarded when a small gasp escaped Cook’s lips.

With easy and fluid grace, Cook leaned back on his heels and placed a hand on Bering’s chest, pulling him up on his knees and back into his lap. It was a bit awkward at first, but once Bering looked in the mirror again, he saw why Cook had positioned them like that. Chest to the fighters back, Cook had an excellent view of Bering’s tight and toned body. Bering’s head was still gripped firmly, his chin and jaw cradled in Cook’s hand. He watched as the navigator’s nimble fingers reached down and grasped the fighter’s red and aching cock.

Cook leaned forward and bit at Bering’s ear, soothing it with licks as he thrust up with his hips. “I do, but I seem to remember you favored this position, Kep.” Cook murmured into his ear, causing a small ball of pressure to expand in Bering’s gut. He wanted to hold out, keep this pleasure for as long as he could, watch the thin, light fingers move up and down his dark red shaft. Despite his best attempts, Bering couldn’t hold it in; a pleasured scream that morphed into a deep moan escaped his lips as he shuddered and released his come all over Cook’s hand and his own stomach.

Bones and muscles fell to mush, but the feeling of Cook sliding in and out of him kept him half hard and he dropped his head back on his ex-lover’s shoulder. Cook brought his soiled hand up to Bering’s face and with out prompt, Bering licked it clean, the taste of Cook’s delicious skin and the saltiness of his own essence making him moan.

“Hmm, I always knew you were a come slut,” breathed Cook as he watched Bering lick between his fingers, getting every last bit.

Bering paused in his ministrations to turn his head and kiss Cook fully on the mouth, bringing his hand behind the navigator’s head. He thrust his tongue into Cook’s mouth, spreading and sharing his come between them.

“Takes one to know one, asshole,” Bering said, with no heat, only the breathless voice of someone well fucked.

Once the hand was clean, Cook dropped both hands to Bering’s hips and ruthlessly pressed into him until he froze and then chocked back a cry of his own, Bering feeling the pulse of the other’s cock as it emptied into him. The fighter took fistfuls of Cook’s hair and pulled him down into a sloppy but searing kiss.

After they were coherent enough to come back to their senses, Cook pulled out and Bering rolled over onto his work out mat and stared up at the ceiling, trying to ignore the feeling of wetness between his legs. He could hear Cook getting dressed and was about to just let him walk out, but then decided that he had nothing to lose by speaking up. Bering propped himself up on his hands, feet and legs out stretched before him.

“We can’t keep doing this, Ty.” Bering winced as Cook leveled a look at him and raised one eyebrow. “Cook, sorry.” He apologized, ran a hand through his hair and went on. “Either we kiss and make up or we stop doing this.”

Cook adjusted his glasses and turned to a still naked Bering and crossed his arms, “I suppose you are right, we are in enemy territory. No need to get the whole ship killed if we are distracted.” He looked away as if in thought, eyes focusing on nothing in particular.

Standing on wobbly legs, Bering rose up to stand in front of Cook and meet his eyes. “Well, what do you want?”

Dropping his arms from his chest, Cook raised a hand to Bering’s face and cradled it, stroking his beard with his thumb. Bering would never admit it to anyone, but he leaned into that touch like it was a lifeline.

“If I had something to apologize for, I would.” Cook stated with a small, sad smirk and with that, dropped his hand and walked out of the room leaving Bering naked and cold.

The chrono on the wall stated that Bering had to be up for duty in 3 hours so he headed for the shower and turned the water on full blast, the coldest he could get it so that it could drown out any feelings of guilt that weighted on his mind.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, no dicks were harmed in any explosions in the making of this story.


End file.
